I can't think of anything as fragile as a momma's heart...Before having kids, I might have never thought that or truly understood it. But being a momma breaks your heart...Literally. I mean I can't think of anything more potentially heartbreaking - Sure if you lose a spouse, parent or someone close, it is an undeniable loss. But the thought of losing or something happening to your child, a piece of you, someone that no matter what can never be replaced, is so different.

Losing your son from cancer, having your 3rd miscarriage, choking on fear at the thought of another surgery for your little girl, learning how to deal with kids bullying your 6 year old, having other children call your baby broken or gross...I mean how do us mommas seriously do it?

I guess it's the most selfless act of love - Our hearts are no longer are own. Mommy-Hood is this big, gigantic leap of faith hoping, praying, wishing you get to keep them and protect them until your time has come.

But I guess the risk of it all, is experiencing this kinda love.The kinda love where both hands are used to grab your face for a kiss.

The kinda love where you can make someone laugh more than anyone else on the planet.

The kinda love where what you say, how you act and who you are, all matter - You choose how they see their momma and who they become because of it.

The kinda love where you can still make mistakes daily, but know your love is enough regardless.

The kinda love where your life explodes in beautiful purpose and your heart finally feels fulfilled.

The kinda love where you are their world and they are yours - And really that is all that matters.

So to all mommas out there - Those that lost a piece of themselves, those that are trying desperately to become one, those that are in sleepless nights and those that are grieving their empty nest. Regardless of the heartache, regardless of the fear, regardless of the unknown, remember & dwell in this kinda love."Motherhood: All love begins and ends there." - Robert Browning

The scar on my daughter's back is barely visible anymore...I know it's there because I trace it when I'm reflecting on that day. The day I begged God-Fate-Karma whomever, to keep her alive during her heart surgery. The day it felt like God was actually holding me...

It's funny, I grew up in a Christian home, heck my grandpa was even a preacher, but for me God is not so much a church anymore, but moments within my life. And this moment will be one I forever embrace.

Obviously leading up to my daughter's heart surgery, I was a hot-outta-control-snickers-binge-eating-emotional MESS. Everything I did with her, in the back of my head I thought "this might be the last time". Her last bath, her last nap, her last snuggle. I remember waking her, cause God knows I didn't sleep that night, around 3 am to nurse her for "the last time" and that just about did me in. I remember stroking her little head as tears streamed down my face and begging God to please let me keep her.

Giving Pip to the doctor was probably the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Although she had a quite serious surgery before this one, for some reason the thought of operating on her heart seemed so much more unstable.

As soon as I placed Pip into the doctor's hands, I literally collapsed on the floor in the middle of the hall, weeping in fear. My husband picked me up and shoved us into the first door he saw and it just so happen to be a chapel.

As I cried my heart out, and my husband held me, it felt in a way like God was holding me too - That as scared as I was, as unsure about everything happening, a peace kinda came over me and I knew that God was there looking out for my little girl.

It was a simple moment, wasn't like lightening crashed down on us, or the heavens opened up, or the doc came running in and said she's fixed...In reality my husband could have picked any door, but Fate knew that was the door I needed, that was the door that let me feel God.